Profiterole Skool for the Brainy
by Editor-Bug
Summary: After receiving a perfect score on an intelligence test, Zim is invited to attend a prestigious private school. Upon the Irken's arrival, everything seems to be perfect. But he soon discovers there's something sinister going on beneath the totally-not-suspicious surface... ONE-SHOT! Read & review if you like!


"Class, before you retreat to the stability of your home lives, you'll be receiving the results of last week's intelligence test," Ms. Bitters announced. "Those of you who scored significantly above average have been accepted into the city's new private boarding school, the Profiterole Skool for the Brainy."

Her boots made an especially loud clacking sound as she rounded the room handing each student their graded test.

"...heh?" Zim squinted when he got his. "'3'? 3 out of what, a thousand?"

"3 out of 3," Ms. Bitters clarified. "Looks like you got a perfect score, hurrayyy."

"Pfft! Of course!" Zim leaned back in his chair. "As if Zim could score anything less than—"

"'Of course' is right!" Dib cut in. "As if anyone but an ALIEN could correctly answer all these 'intelligence' questions! They made no sense!"

Zim stuck his tongue out as the dismissal bell rang. All the students filed out of the classroom, as Zim carried on waving his perfect score around. Once he was outside the building, it was swiped from him.

"Well!" Dib began. "I hope you have fun at that snooty private school! With any luck, the people there will be able to see through your little disguise!"

"FOOLISH _FOOL_!" Zim snatched the test back.

"Ow, paper cut!"

"Sss...!" Zim flinched before continuing. "I can assure you they won't be. None of you pitiful humans will EVER SEE THROUGH THE BRILLIANCE OF MY DISGUISE!"

Dib gaped at the numerous students ignoring that statement while Zim gave him a smug look. "Wwwhatever! They're going to work you 'til you're a zombie! You're going to wish you were back here, where everything's simple and poorly funded."

Zim did a mocking motion with his hand. "'Beh, beh, beh, spooky zebras'—FAREWELL, DIB! Enjoy yourself amongst the riff-raff! I'm off to go once again demostrate my superiority!"

He was sure to hurry on his way home. Though he appeared arrogant in front of Dib, he was ambivalent to the idea of attending the private school. He supposed a more highly-funded education could be lucrative to his mission, but he was apprehensive about having to live there. He'd have to keep his disguise on 24/7, and even if he left every single one of his henchmen at the base, there'd be a chance of something going wrong there...okay, maybe leaving them all increased the chance.

Buuut he didn't exactly have much time to think it over, because when he arrived at his house, there was a fancy coach bus parked in front of it. How the private school knew where he lived, he'd never know.

Zim forced the bus doors open. "State your business here!"

To his shock, the bus driver was in a weird mascot costume. It appeared to be a big puffy dessert in a paper cup and blue-&-white striped limbs. It had a goofy pie-eyed face with chubby, rosy, freckled cheeks, a somewhat long nose and a wide grin. It had white gloves on its hands and big brown shoes on its feet. It looked...kinda creepy.

"This is the boarding school bus!" the driver said gleefully. "Here to whisk you off to boarding school!"

"About that..." Zim began unsurely.

"There's a free cream puff buffet in the back."

"ABOUT THAT, I just need a minute to pack my essential items, and I'll be right on."

Now certain, Zim zipped into his base and dug up a couple inventions that were small enough to fit in a suitcase. His roboparents packed for him and he was back outside ready to depart in under a minute, complete with a little baseball cap. He loaded his things onto the bus, took his fill of the cream puffs, and sat in one of the many comfortable seats.  
Suddenly, he felt more positive about the situation.

XXXXXXONEEXTREMELYLONGBUSRIDELATERXXXXXXX

As Zim expected, the boarding school was much bigger and fancier than his previous one. Yet they still spelled "school" as "Skool"... It was actually made up of multiple buildings, almost like some sort of proper campus. He was given the standard uniform, which was a red sweater vest and blue dress pants.  
Then began an incredibly long orientation process, touring the school, reviewing the courses and facilities. Zim was tired, bored out of his mind and desperate for some time to sit down and digest his cream puffs. But he was informed by the ever-increasing number of mascot staff that there was just one part of the orientation to go; a welcoming speech from the principal.

All the students filed into the enormous auditorium and took their seats. There was total silence when the principal stepped onto the stage. Zim strained himself to look over the students' heads and see the guy; yet another one of those cream puff mascots. He'd heard of school spirit, but this was kinda ridiculous.

"Welcome, all participants in the Profiterole Skool for the Brainy's spontaneous mid-year orientation!" he began in his peppy voice. "I am your principal and mascot, Creamy the Cream Puff. But 'Creamy' or 'Principal Creamy' are just dandy as well. We aren't very uppity here, ha-haaa."

Everyone (besides Zim) applauded in perfect unison.

"I'm sure you'll all enjoy your time here at what has quickly become the most wealthy school in the city. And will hopefully stay that way. You should have been filled in on all my policies and such on the tour. Take your cards and you can retire to your rooms. Cream puff breakfast is at 7 AM tomorrow, so be sure to sleep on time."

"Yes, Principal Creamy," chorused the students.

"Sweet dreams."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"FINALLY..." Zim flopped down onto his bed the second he got to his room. "My insides can settle! And I can empty this—!"

"TA-DA!" GIR popped out of the suitcase. "I've been in here for 9 hours!"

"GIR?! How did—?! When did—?! You can't be here!" Zim tried to stuff him back into the bag. "One third of the orientation was spent covering the rules against pets! Or in your case, robot slaves disguised as pets!"

"But Masterrr, I promise to be a good pup!" Tears welled up in SIR unit's eyes. "I won't invite anyone over, or get cracker crumbs on the floor...!"

"Okay, GIR, fine, you can stay! Only because you miraculously didn't break any of the inventions that I packed, and I have neither the patience nor the energy for your tears right now. But you MUST remain hidden at all times, especially from—!"

Just then, the dorm door creaked open and Zim slammed the suitcase shut with his torso.

"ROOMMATE! FRIEND!" he blurted nervously. "We don't necessarily have to be friends! But the two of us are sharing this living space, sooo, Y'KNOW!"

"Nice to meet you," the clean-cut boy greeted. "My name is Alexander. I'm sure you're just as tired as I am, so I'll leave you to settle into bed."

Almost as quickly as he'd arrived, Alexander changed into his pajamas, said "good night", turned the lights off and tucked himself in. All his stuff had been set up in there for quite a while. Unsure of how to react, Zim simply stayed where he was.

GIR peeked back out of the suitcase. "HE ASLEEP?"

"SHHH!" Zim climbed into the bed and proceeded to stare at the ceiling. After a few seconds, he felt shifting under the covers. "GIR..."

"..."

"GIR, I know you're there."

GIR poked his head out beside him with a pleading expression.

"You can stay in the bed, as long as you alert me when it's 7 AM. There's a healthy possibility of me zoning out, because I don't usually do this 'bedrest' thing."

"Okie-dokie!" GIR immediately went to sleep.

"Mmgh…"

Sure enough, Zim did zone out, and GIR did alert him the next morning at 7 AM, which Zim kind of regretted telling him to do considering GIR's method of alarming him was just screeching. At least Alexander wasn't around for that...

The Irken smoothed out his clothes. "All the humans must be at breakfast now."

"Let's go too!"

"'Let's' not!" Zim sat GIR back down on the bed. "You are to stay here 28 hours a day...10 days a week!"

"Sooo when am I to nooot stay here?"

"NEVER! Look, GIR, there's a television set, and there's a miniature fridge! Two of your favorite appliances! I think you'll survive!"

"B-But...! Oh. Ohhh." GIR plopped down in front of the fancy TV and switched it on. "Buh-bye, kiddo, have a nice day."

"'Master', call me 'Master'. And keep things down in here so nobody finds you! Especially 'Aleks-and-dar'."

"'kay, bye!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Upon his arrival at the dining hall, (or the "d-hall" as these people called it to sound cool) Zim discovered that all they served at this school was cream puffs. He gulped. For all he knew, they'd been deceiving yesterday by serving good ones on the bus and the ones served at the actual school would be toxic!

"Well, time to eat up," he said anxiously.

But when he took a bite...it tasted good.

"Hmm."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When the time had come for Zim's first class, he was prepared for the teacher to be some demonic old witch. Unsurprisingly, it was yet another one of those goofy cream puff mascots, but that mask didn't fool Zim; he knew he was a DEMON!

Zim flinched when he reached down towards him...but he only received a pat.

"I hope you like this class."

Zim straightened out his wig. "Hmm."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Once the lesson got started, Zim was sure he'd begin to abhor this place! If this school was really so rich, their classes must've been crazy difficult! He covered his eyes as his first assignment was handed to him.

But when he looked at the paper...it was just simple spelling. Like, fill-in-the-blanks.

He completed the assignment in a minute or so and was allowed to leave early. "Yet again, I feel compelled to go 'hmm'."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Wow, everything was a lot more enjoyable than Zim expected. Coming to this school must've been the best decision he'd made since getting to Earth.

Following that one class, he had plenty of free time to spend coming up with his next world-conquering scheme, and figured he may as well make good use of his surroundings. Not only could he incorporate this clearly powerful establishment into his plan, but it provided him with a useful source of ideas.

He entered the rather impressive library and met another one of those cream puff people at the counter.

"Anywhere I could determine the key to global domination?" Zim paused. That might've sounded suspicious. "I have a...book report on the subject." Saved it.

"You could try the world conquest section over there."

On his way, Zim noticed the students were all completely silent. He knew people were supposed to be quiet in libraries, but geez...a pin fell off a table and he actually heard it! Everyone was sitting in rows, with their noses buried deep in cookbooks. Zim passed by one of them and peeked at their book.

The schoolgirl gladly held it up to him. ''I'm reading about creeeam puffs.''

"Odd..."

Zim didn't make much headway in the library and before the time came his next class; Earth books never seemed to be much help.  
Yet another cream puff guy led the lecture.

"Good afternoon, students. Today's lesson is all about zombification."

"Ohh, I bet that Dib-human wishes he were in this class...!" Zim mused to himself.

"Put simply, zombification occurs when a creature's thinking organ, usually the brain, has been removed from their body, turning them into an empty husk. This organ can even be replaced with other stuff."

Zim nodded knowingly.

"What you may not know is that the headspace can be refilled to control thoughts and actions. Think of it like reprogramming a computer. For example, let's say I took out a child's brain via a mostly painless process and coerced them into watching my informative video series on cream puffs, textbooks, obedience and etcetera. If I did that, they'd become a well-behaved, successful Profiterole Skool slave—er, student. But that is called 'brainwashing', my dear children."

"...?" Zim looked up from his notes.

"Corrupt maybe, but effective. Do you have any idea how wealthy a snooty school with a good reputation becomes?"

"..."

"Whoever was in charge of that would be more filthy rich than their wildest dreams. Haha. T'was only a scenario, that'd never happen, no one would ever do that."  
The students laughed in unison as Zim just stared ahead. The teacher noticed his confusion, or at least appeared to. It was hard to tell with that mascot suit.  
"Well, that's all for class today. Have a good weekend!"

While the students filed out of the room, the teacher poked the top of Zim's head.

"Ah! Heh?"

"How'd you find the lesson?"

"It was—"

"I don't think you got a good grasp on the material."

"Perhaps the lecture should be a little over a minute, then..."

"Ha-ha-ha. You should meet me back here at 8 PM for tutoring. Being a new student, I think you need to adopt the same mindset as the rest of the class, BUT you're free to do as you please. I'm sure you'll get caught up in due time."

"Riiight. Bye now." Zim exited the classroom and looked around in thought. "Hmm...zombification...brainwashing...wealth...weekend—WAIT A SECOND, I know what's going on here! Oh, that sneaky Puff Man...! I can't believe he thought to do this before I did!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Back at his dorm room, Zim found GIR sitting in a beanbag chair that was covered in crumbs and empty snack bags. He was watching a soap opera revolving around chupacabras. It was the mid-season finale and things were really heating up to say the least.

"Hi, Master!" he belched. "This TV gets more channels than the one at our crummy ol' house!"

"Don't get used to it!" snapped Zim. "Using my exceptional deductive skills, I've uncovered the truth about this place, and I shall put a stop to it before they can get their big, cartoonish hands on my brain!"

"So whatcha gon' do 'bout it?"

"First, I'll take Alexander to that tutoring session and use him as a meat shield when the brain thieves come to get me. Then, while they're preoccupied with him, I'll have him lead me straight to the brain theft lair! From there..." Zim picked up his invention bag. "I'll relieve myself of that Puff Man."

GIR's "ears" perked up. "Oooh, he's coming!"

"Perfect timing! Hide yourself, GIR!"

"Awww, but I wanna see if Hermosa picks Chuy or Victor. Chuy's got a more stable job, but Victor's her childhood amigo."

"OBEY ME _NOW_, GIR!"

GIR saluted and sank into the snack pile (whilst making a submarine noise) just as Alexander opened the door.

"Hello."

"Come with me!" Zim demanded, pulling him by the arm. "I have a tutoring session to attend and I wish for you to...assist me."

"Oh, okay," Alexander complied emotionlessly. "Assist how?"

"You'll see."

XXXXXXXALILPAST8PMXXXXXXX

"And 2+2 is...?"

"5!" Zim and Alexander answered with boredom and enthusiasm respectively.

"Very good, kids! Sounds like you've got the cream puff method down pat!" The teacher clapped before standing. "Just a minute, I need to grab my flashcards."

Zim sat up as he left. "This is it...! They'll be coming for my brain now!"

"No, he said he was getting flashcards," Alexander commented.

Zim rolled his eyes and slipped under the table. "Shh, human! They'll have to get through you AND this table to get to me! But I'll get them before I get got...yeah."

Sure enough, he soon heard several footsteps approaching the table, and when he looked around he saw the striped legs of more cream puff people. Mechanical noises accompanied their steps as they circled the table.

At this, Zim smirked. "Ha, they're even more incompetent than I—"

"HEY!" GIR suddenly popped out of his bag. "UNDER HERE, SWEET BOYS!"

"GIR, YOU THICK-HEADED DUMB-BOT!"

The table was immediately bowled over by the cream puff crowd, who looked down at the duo threateningly.

"Oh, for the love of—"

Three bags were shoved onto three heads.

Zim, GIR and Alexander were carried across the campus, to the basement level of the math & technology building. Their captors entered a humongous factory-like room occupied mainly by two things; a large, intimidating-looking machine with a conveyor belt below and a power generator above, and hundreds (maybe thousands) of chambers containing human brains. The trio was strapped onto the conveyor belt with a metal bar across their arms and waists; first GIR, then Zim, then Alexander. Only then were the bags removed.

"—and furthermore...!" Zim opened his eyes and took in his current position. "Oh."

Principal Creamy stepped out of the shadows, up on a catwalk. "Good work, robot army. I see you've got my new student, _and guests_...was the dog really necessary?"

"He saw too much!" the robo-Creamys replied in one voice.

"If you say so. Start up the brain-harvesting machine!"

"Robot army?! No wonder they all looked and acted and sounded the same..." Zim grew frantic as the conveyor belt began pulling him towards the machine. "What, what's happening?!"

"Like I said, it's a brain-harvesting machine. See all these brains I have stored around the room?" Creamy gestured towards them. "I harvested them. With this machine. And the same thing's about to happen to your brains, courtesy of this machine. Pretty clear."

"But WHY?"

"For the CLOUT!"

"You must release me at once!" Zim sweated profusely. "The contents of my head were not meant for human eyes! Or human, cream puff, hybrid, whatever you are!"

"I'll risk it."

"Rrrgh, I'm doomed to death by demented dessert…!"

"Nice alliteration, Zim," Alexander piped up.

"_SILENCE_! If I could only reach my...!" Zim noticed his invention bag was no longer over his shoulder.

"Looking for this?" Creamy held it up. "Sorry, no luggage allowed on the ride."

"Whee-HOO!" GIR cheered as the razor blades spun. "I like this ride!"

"GIR, this is all your fault!" Zim strained to look upward at him. "Even if I become a mindless zombie, which is how things are looking right now, I swear I shall make it my life's mission to punish you!"

"Hehehehehe…" Creamy rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

Try as he might, Zim couldn't see any way out of this situation. His PAK was practically flattened against the conveyor belt, so he couldn't use anything in there to help him. He wasn't physically strong enough to break free. He couldn't get to his inventions. Those blades were getting louder by the second. And GIR's head was going to be cut open any moment now, revealing him to be a robot; who knows what that'd lead to? He almost wished he were getting zombified first so he didn't have to experience it...  
All he could do was shut his eyes and wait fo—

_Clink-cli-cli-cli-cli-cli-cli..._

"Heh?" Zim cracked one eye open.

The conveyor belt had stopped. In the tunnel of the machine, a razor blade was spinning uselessly against GIR's forehead. It had torn his disguise, of course, but his metal body was too tough for it.

"What? It's stuck?" Creamy said, confused. He couldn't see within the machine. "Dear me. Someone take a look..."

"Haha...haha! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Zim laughed out of relief and triumph. GIR's thick-headedness had saved him. Now that he was calm, he realized that all his nervous perspiration made him slippery enough to slide out of his restraints. "HAHA! Prepare to face your doom, Puff Man!"

"Ohhh, that's problematic." Creamy did a quick clap. "Robots, detain that weird green child."

When the robot army approached Zim, he took a gamble and used his PAK legs to traverse over them, causing them to back off. A wave of fear ran through Principal Creamy and he attempted to step back into the shadows, but Zim was too fast for him. The Irken went right for his bag and Creamy fought against his grip. In the midst of their tug-of-war, the robo-Creamys regained the courage to obey and tried to pull Zim towards the machine by his PAK legs, giving him the winning edge.

"HA!" Zim taunted as he was yanked away with the bag. Flipping back in midair, he reached inside and rummaged around. "Streamer torpedos? No. Gingerbread grenades? No. Plasma gun? No. Shrink ray? No. Pocky shooter? Nooo, why did I bring these? Uh, there's the plasma gun again...oh wait, that'll do it."

Finally, Zim landed on his feet with the plasma gun charging up in his hands.

"Hey, no guns in school!" Creamy scolded him. "Oh, good luck making valedictorian at this rate."

"VALEDICTORIAN THIS!" Zim aimed for the top of the brain-harvesting machine and fired. A bright electromagnetic beam struck the contraption and it exploded into many tiny pieces.

"That is destruction of school property!" Creamy actually sounded angry now. "I'll have you expelled for this!"

"Enough scholastic blathering, you pathetic pastry!" Charging the gun again, Zim faced the robot army. "Humans may be simple-minded filth, but they're supposed to be...individually simple-minded filth! You just want everyone to be like you!"

"Come now, who wouldn't want to be like me?"

"Allow me to clue you in. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Zim fired wildly, sending flashy blasts all over the factory. Tons of robot parts went flying, brain chambers were smashed open; in all of 20 seconds, the place became a total wreck.

"...wow." Creamy's arms fell to his sides at the sight of his ruined creations. "And just like that, everything's gone."

"Everything but you." Zim rose before him once again. (except with a plasma weapon this time)

"WHOA, _WHOA_! Those were a bunch of robots you just destroyed! I'm a human man in a mascot costume! Perhaps you should think for a moment before doing this!"

Zim shrugged. "Robot, human; Zim does not discriminate."

**PEW! PEW!**

"AGHH! ARGH!" Creamy took a shot to each kneecap. "That stings like the dickens!"

"Ha! Now you'll be immobilized while I clean up this mess!" Zim turned away from him.

"Wh-What do you mean...?"

"...what DO I mean by that?" Zim asked himself. He didn't plan this far.

"Master, can I have another ticket?!" GIR toddled up to him with his hood off and a big gash in his forehead.

"Oh yeah, GIR." Zim recalled. "That machine didn't harvest your brain, did it?"

"Nope! Just cut partway through!" GIR stuck his hand into the cut part.

"Okay..." Zim somewhat eagerly surveyed the brains splayed all over the floor. "Hrmmm, what to do with these?"

"You could give 'em all back." said Alexander, still stuck on the conveyor belt.

"AGH!" Zim jumped. "Oh yeah, you."

"I know which brains belong to which students. I've seen a LOT..." the boy went on. "The one under your foot is mine."

Zim lifted up his foot with a squish. "Ah."

"Awww," GIR hugged the brain. "Can't we keep 'em?"

"No!" Zim insisted, hastily picking them up. "Not with witnesses!"

"Hey, those are mine..." Creamy protested feebly.

"And this serves as my payback for that Puff Man," Zim said smugly. "NOT because I want to do the wretched humans any favors! Besides, I'd never plagiarize someone else's domination scheme. As an Irken, I have a bit more pride than that."

"As a what?" queried Alexander.

"Shhh, you'll have your thinking organ back soon enough." Zim began piling them up. "GIR, get to work picking up these brains! This is going to take at least one scene transition..."

XXXXXXXMUCHLATERXXXXXXX

Once all the brains were returned to their rightful bodies, the students called in the police to apprehend Creamy. After investigating the factory, they had more than enough to convict him for.

"WAIT!" Zim stopped the cops before they put him in their car. "Unmask this man!"

Anxiously, the officers twisted Creamy's helmet around until it popped off. Beneath was a pale, thin man with fair brown hair and a massive overbite. The entire crowd gasped dramatically.

"...who dat?" GIR asked.

"Y'know, I don't know." One of the cops scratched his head. "Admittedly, not sure why we all gasped like that...hey, did that dog just talk?"

"WELL, you better get him down to the station or wherever!" Zim reminded them.

Principal Creamy glared at him and Alexander. "Oh, I would've gotten away with it if it wasn't for you meddling kids and your dog!"

"..." Zim stared blankly at him. "Were you just referencing something? I don't..."

Creamy heaved a sigh. "Just take me away."

With that, he was shoved into the back of the cop car and driven away, never to be seen or heard from again. Y'know, aside from his cellmates and prison wardens.

"Hey, Zim?" Alexander tapped his shoulder. "I told our schoolmates the incredible story of how you got our brains back, so me and a bunch of others prepared a surprise for you to show our gratitude!"

"SURPRISE!" GIR exclaimed before Zim slammed a hand over his mouth.

"Wh-Whose dog is this?! Whosever he is, he should really stop TALKING. ANYWAY, let's go to see that surprise, ha-ha...GIRQUITLICKINGMYHAND."

Everyone made their way to a field, where a sizable figure stood covered by a sheet. It was unceremoniously pulled off, revealing the figure to be a statue of Zim, made entirely out of cream puffs. At the base was a sign reading "Our Hero".

"Ta-da!" Alexander said proudly. "Do you like it?"

"A tribute made from the very dessert that just tried to harvest my brain..." Zim tapped his chin. "Well, a statue's a statue."

The students rejoiced and got a party going to celebrate their de-zombification, with GIR was enjoying himself right alongside them. However, Zim was a bit disgusted that the only snacks at the refreshments table were cream puffs.

GIR poked out from underneath the tablecloth. "Havin' fun, Master?"

"Fun isn't in my job description, GIR," Zim deadpanned. "I'll admit, it's nice to receive worship and adoration from someone other than you for once, but I'd prefer it if it were more fear-driven. You know what I mean?"

"..." A soft-baked pretzel sprang out of GIR's head. "Pretzel? This one's got marshmallowwws!"

"Ughhh." Zim took half and nibbled it, sourly observing the party. "Might as well try to enjoy it before I'm forced to return to my low-budget school. I can already hear the Dib's welcoming of 'i ToLd YoU sO, sPaCe BoY!' I despise him with great intensity."

"That's the spirit!"

* * *

(A/N: Considering the length of this and how slow I am, you can imagine how long it took me to write. LONG ENOUGH. I don't really have anything particular to say, but this was another one of those ooold ideas that I took an eternity to even start working on. And this ain't the last one like that, hooo boy.

If you enjoyed this, please review, fave, point out any mistakes and check out my profile for more...au revoir!)


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